


The Curious Case Of Yeehaw's Vanishing Appendage

by casstayinmyass



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Cowboy Hats, Crack, Cursed, Dick Jokes, Dicks, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Panty Kink, Potatoes, Romance, Strange Missionary, Vampire Sex, Vampires, based on art, cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25912288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Turmoil has befallen the Copiaverse in the small town of Ass. Can you and Side Part save the day?
Relationships: Bald Copia/Friar Terzo, Cardinal Copia/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	The Curious Case Of Yeehaw's Vanishing Appendage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostsucks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostsucks/gifts).



> Happy birthday Tay, you cool human you.

The year was 1887 or some shit. 

You’re travelling with your handsome—but in reality really fucking foul looking—betrothed. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder however, and according to you, he’s all you’ve ever wanted and more. It’s Copia, but he’s earned the nickname “Side Part” because the putrid grey hair on his head is parted on the side, as are his pubes. They smell of boiled eggs and dust. 

The two of you are riding a horse together. “Yahtzee!” Copia says, spanking his cane against your ass with a thwap.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Cara mia, look. There is a town up ahead. The perfect place to celebrate the day you were expelled from the womb!” He points with his cane toward the town the two of you are approaching. It looks like a shithole. “Ah, I cannot wait to stop. I haven’t washed my sac in 12 months. We have travelled too long.”

“It _is_ kind of off-putting when I go down on you to smell your rotten cheesy balls,” you admit. Copia gets a boner from talking about his balls, but you’re too focused on riding into the dusty town. The name of the town is on a big sign planted in the dirt. A tumbleweed blows by it.

_ASS._

_POPULATION: 6_ the sign read.

“This is a really small town,” you say, frowning. Copia doesn’t hear you—he’s jerking off. The two of you get off your horse after Copia had splooged all over your back, and stroll into the local saloon. It’s sundown now, and it’s starting to snow.

“Hello,” Copia says, holding you by the arm. He does a ballerina twirl in greeting. “Pleased to meet you all.”

There are four other patrons in the saloon, and they all look suspiciously similar. One has red panties over his face and is violently huffing them. One is riding around in circles like a madman on a tricycle, an unnerving grin on his face. One has a cowboy hat on with assless chaps. The bartender is fucking bald as the day he was born.

“I am Panty Sniffer Copia,” the one with the panties says. “I can always be counted on to take a good whiff, eh?”

“Oh,” you whisper. You’re already wet.

“Mamma miaaaaaa, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, mi piace scopare il mio triciclo!” Tricycle Copia says, doing a pop-a-wheelie. He grins so wide his head split into two halves like Pacman.

“I am Hairless Copia,” the bartender says, bowing his shiny ass scalp.

“You are not,” Panty Fucker says. “You are bald.”

“I am hairless.”

“You are bald.”

“ _Fine_ ,” the bartender sighs. “I am bald.” He sheds a single tear, for he had eaten poorly cooked rigatoni one day and lost all his hair because of it, never to return. Never to return. Press F for respect.

“Howdy friend,” the smooth cowboy says finally, “I’m—” He puts his leg up on the stool, and everybody gasps. His dick is gone. His fucking dangling cock had disappeared. His schlong had vanished. His penis had evacuated. His dong had fucked off into space. All that was left was a pair of lonely, hairy balls. “Yeehaw,” he cries softly into the void, “Where has my dick gone, **_e h h h_**?”

“I’ll help you find it!” Panty Sniffer Copia stands, tossing the table he was sitting at out the window. “I am good at sniffing things out. Eh? Eh? Do you get my joke? You think I’m funny, yes? Because I sniff panties? I am funny, heheheheheheh,” he laughs in a flurry of rat noises. Nobody joins in. “I guess I will go fuck myself, then.”

“I would like to see that,” Tricycle Copia grins, shoving the entire tricycle seat up his gaping asshole.

“No, wait!” Yeehaw sobs, slapping Panty with his bullwhip, “I need my junk back! So I can thrust like a bucking bronco, yeehaw! Save a horse and ride a cowboy, but how can you ride me now, **_EH_**?!” He starts to hump his hips into the air, and drapes himself back over the bar dramatically. “WHAT AM I WITHOUT MY COWBOY CUMMIES?”

“A question for us all,” Bald Copia whispers, shaking his bald scalp.

“You are nothing without cum,” Side Part Copia tells him. You have to agree. Without his delicious sperm fluid, you never would have agreed to become Side Part’s fiancé. “We will help you find your fuckstick, my good friend. But first—rats!” He reaches into his coat 50 rats swarm out. They overrun the saloon, and begin to gnaw on the walls. They eat poor Tricycle Copia. He is but a skeleton with a mustache now. RIP.

While also a bartender, Bald Motherfucker owned the inn upstairs. You and Side Part decide to stay now that you’re wrapped up in the mystery. It could be a fun birthday weekend for you.

You and Side Part Copia head upstairs after a hearty dinner of potatoes, and settle in. The luggage is forgotten as you sit down on the edge of the king bed and start to strip. You take a sock off, and Copia nuts his pants.

“Well, that was quick,” you sigh, and reach over to turn the light out.

“No!” he says, “Wait. I can get it up again. Watch.” He takes his cane and starts swatting his deflated dick with it until it twitches to life again like a big slimy fuck worm. “Che bei fiori!” Captured by his display of lust, you crawl back on the bed. Side part stands at the foot of it between your legs, raising his bumpy forehead in interest. “You want the fuck now don’t you, principessa dei funghi? Hmm? You want your Cardinal’s stiff flesh rod?”

“Yeah, flick my bean, daddy.”

He gives his cock a languid stroke, teasing his fingers up to the tip just enough to elicit a small groan. “I want to give my Little Cardi to you, and fill you with my seed.”

Your legs part for him, and you make grabby hands. That’s all the invitation he needs. Copia stands back at the opposite side of the bedroom, measures his flight path and trajectory, and takes a running, skipping jump, plowing into you at full speed. He goes so deep you can feel his massive skinflute in your lungs.

“Brush your side part against my tits?” you moan, dragging your fingers softly through his hair. He moans, starting to whip his cock around in circles inside of you.

“I am about to make the alfredo sauce inside of you, yes?” he whispers in your ear. His eyeballs sink so far back into his head so he literally has no eyeballs, just two sockets staring at you as he fucks you.

“Please put your eyes back in,” you sob quietly, so Copia does.

“Anything for my love on her birthday,” he whispers, kissing you on the lips. He gently caresses your cheek, and jam begins to seep from his nipples. Oh, well.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, squirming beneath your man. Copia’s balls shrivel up as he prepares to provide you with his warmed up Extra Garlicy Pasta Sauce. You can feel his balls against your ass cheeks. They’re nice and hairy, covered in the thickest silver curls that swoosh gently against your lady parts. Copia still has some stubble on his taint from where he tried to shave it, and it wasn’t the best feeling, but his fucking honker of a cock made up for it.

“B-bellisima—” he whispers. His lips screw up in a tiny ball and he starts to shake. “I am going to pump you full of my Cardinal milk now, si?”

“Milk me pussy and make me squirt, cane daddy!” you scream so loud the windows shatter. Instead of doing that, he changed his mind.

“Actually will you ride my forehead ridges, mia dolce?” he pleads. “Per favore, my ass will wobble so hard if you do that.” You moan, and sit up on his face, dragging yourself against the mountain range that is his forehead. With a shudder, you both finish at the same time. Copia’s spicy load is too great. It floods the bedroom, so you have to move over to the next room.

As you’re sleeping that night after the great sex, you don’t notice the window in the new bedroom is open. A caped assailant hops in! Creeping over to the bed, he pulls back the sheets on your neck, exposed to his sharp fangs. Before he can feed though, he looks over to see your fiancé. He looks pretty nice, fucked out and happily snoozing. The assailant decides instead to pay attention to him.

"What the fuck?" you whisper softly, with feeling. This vampire has beautiful sideburns you just can't ignore. You want them to give your thighs rug burn.

Copia’s big shimmering cock springs up over the sheets, and you want to suck it, but the vampire bitch is faster. He hovers over your beloved, and goes down on him. Copia encourages him in his sleep, groaning something about buttplugs. This guy actually gives really good head, and it’s the hottest thing you’d ever seen. The vampire drags his fangs up Copia’s hardening cock, drawing just a little bit of blood. The man beneath makes a soft ‘hnng’ noise, arching up, and you bite your lip. The vampire deepthroats him again, and swallows. After that, he blows you a kiss, and leaves the way he came… mysteriously.

-0-0-0-

You wake up in the morning, and turn over to gaze at your betrothed. He looks beautiful in the morning light… every inch of him is illuminated in golden sun, face still shiny wet from your pussy juice. He begins to awaken.

“Ah. Thank you for the lovely blowjob last night, tette di lattuga,” Copia sighs, taking you into his arms. You frown as he strokes your hair.

“I didn’t blow you. That was the vampire dude who broke in through the window.”

“Scusi?”

“Bat cape man. Batman. No. You. Another Copia! _Dracopia_.”

“Dracopia?” Copia narrows his eyes, and stares off. “I have not heard that name in years.” Wide eyed, you settle in for the story. Copia grunts suddenly, and you rub his chest to soothe him.

“If it’s too painful a story for you to tell, don’t force yourself for me.”

“No, I eh… I came in my pants again.” You look down. “Anyway, I don’t know who Dracopia is, I was bullshitting you. Breakfast?”

The two of you head downstairs. Bald Copia is making out with a man who has a friar haircut. “Ah! Meet my husband, Friar Terzo,” Bald Copia smiles, a light blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Grazie! Aren't I handsome? I love to have my scalp rubbed while I do the sex,” Terzo ejaculates, shaking their hands.

“Nice to meet you! That’s fucking disgusting!” you say, smiling.

After a hearty breakfast of potatoes, the two of you meet up with Panty Sniffer Copia, who’s got a new pair of panties over his face today. They’re purple and lacy.

“Ready for the interrogations?” he asks, slurping at the damp patch in the underwear. You both nod, and he leads you into the saloon. A bunch of the Copias have been lined up: Yeehaw, Bald Copia, the dusty skeleton of Trike Copia, and.... DANCING POPIA. “In times of turmoil,” Panty says, “In times like these… we will discover where the penis went, eh? One of you is not who you say you are! And I am going to find out who.” He clears his throat—he had snatch juice from the panties stuck in it. “Who here likes wet sloppy pussy?” Panty asks. All of them put their hands up. “Who here likes juicy dick?” Their hands stay up, and Popia keeps on dancing his eternal dance. Panty nods, writing some notes. “Alright. The questions will get harder. Who here likes rats?” Everyone put their hands up. “Dammeet. They’re harder to crack than I thought.”

“I’ve got a question,” you say. You’d know a real Copia better than anyone. “What does good pussy sound like?” Slurping noises erupted as each one indulged in their fantasy, all accurate representations of eating snatch… except one. At the end, Yeehaw stood, dick still missing. There’s a glint in his eye you recognize, though. Stepping closer, you start to frown. “Show me your teeth.”

“I cannot,” he weeps, “I am in mourning for my missing schlong, cara.”

“Who is this costumed imposter?” Panty shouts.

“Ah,” Side Part Copia smiles, “This was the man who sucked me off last night.” Everybody turns to look at him.

“You can’t prove it!” Yeehaw blurts, but he’s cornered. Everyone begins to close in on him, and he’s forced to confess. “ALRIGHT!” He opens his mouth to reveal two sharp fangs where his canines should be.

“Dracopia,” you whisper.

“Yes,” he says, taking off his cowboy hat. “I am.”

“May I go now?” Bald Copia interjects. “I have to lick my husband’s dandruff.”

“Yes,” Panty mutters, and huffs the panties on his face so hard they rip off and he inhales them.

“Why did you do it?” you whisper softly. “Why did you impersonate our beloved Yeehaw?”

“Because I too, wish to have that level of sex appeal! He stands there, dick out, peak male physique! And all he has to say is…” Dracopia bites his fist. “… _yeehaw_.”

“But why the theatrics, eh? The vanishing cock act?” Side Part Copia asks, eyes narrowed.

“I wanted you to find the real Yeehaw and think he was the one who stole his own cock.”

“That makes no fucking sense,” you whisper.

“It sounded like a better plan in my head.” Dracopia falls to his knees, licking his fingers in sorrow. “ _Oh_ , crucify me for my crimes, cara mia. But please… before you do… spare my rat.” He pulls out a small vampire rat with fangs and a tiny cape. It’s so cute that you could die. The rat leans up to give you a boop on the face with its snoot. You crumple to the ground beside Dracopia.

“Okay, fuck. I forgive you. Just tell us where the real Yeehaw is.”

Dracopia blinks up at you and your betrothed. “He is beneath us, in a mine shaft.”

“Eheh. Shaft,” Copia smiles beside you. All the Copias share a laugh.

The group of you get digging, and unearth the true Cowboy Cock Prince from the ground. The smell of week old rigatoni and musty cum floats up. “Can it be?” Panty Sniffer falls to his knees. “Ave Satanas! The real Yeehaw?” Everybody falls to their knees in prayer, and Yeehaw hooks his thumbs into his belt as he takes a step.

“He’s going to say something!”

“Good lord…”

_“Shh, let him speak, let him speak!”_

The cowboy moseys on over to the barstool. He lifts his leg up slowly as everyone watches, enraptured. Like a gift sent from Satan Himself, his flappy dick comes dangling down.

“Yee… and I cannot stress this enough,” he says, looking right at you, “… haw, little lady.” Everybody cheers.

Balance was restored to the Copiaverse. Cum flowed freely from many crotches of tight pants. Rats squeaked happily. You and your beloved Side Part fucked for 24 hours straight in celebration of your birthday. All in all, it was a weird couple of days… but nothing could have been weirder than the time Copia fucked you with a tube of cookie dough.

THE END 


End file.
